Confessions of the Drunken Persuasion
by P4Nd4
Summary: Carlton promised himself a long time ago that he would never lie to himself, no matter what. Shassie!


**Panda: **Hello again, all! I've been stalking the Psych Fanfiction Archive for the last week, overdosing myself on Shassie goodness, when I came up with the idea to write one of my own. It'll be a Oneshot and I know that I have other fics to get Chapters out for but this'll be a short one and plans for my other fics are already in the making.

_Panda-Chan:_ Yeah. All in the making and ready to be procrastinated on.

**Panda:** Oh, shush! Now I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm planning to enjoy writing it.

_Panda-Chan: Disclaimer: _P4NdA does not own Psych or anything else recognizable in this Fanfiction.

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Carlton Lassiter had promised himself a long time ago that he would never lie to himself. Sure he was aloud to hide things from himself or ignore things completely as long as he never lied about them being there.

So when he was little and his parents argued almost every night, everyone of their 'discussions' ending up in tears and broken glass, Carlton didn't try to convince himself that they would stay together.

A few years later when his dad packed his bags, loaded up his car and left with an 'I'll write.' tossed over his shoulder Carlton didn't let himself believe something that he knew would never happen.

When he'd gained a girlfriend in high school and then later in college he didn't fool himself into believing it would last long. No relationship with him ever could. He had been jaded at a young age and looked for lies and deception in anyone who showed him even the slightest bit of interest.

His cynical nature, he'd decided, was the reason why he could never keep anyone close to him. As well as, a few more years down the road, the reason for his failed marriage.

He had loved Victoria, well and truly loved her, but she had doubted his affections because he had always been unable to express himself on an emotional level. She had read his distance wrongly and imagined fantastical alternates to reality.

An extra patrol was a heated affair. A long case was a night out with friends. A requested extra 3 hours was a desperate bid to escape her company. In the end his lover for his job, and his cynical, unable to express nature, saw an end to their partnership.

Not once, in all those years and through all those hardships, had Carlton Lassiter lied to himself or given himself false hope and he wasn't about to start now. So, with a deep breath and steely resolve, he admitted it to himself.

He had feelings for Shawn Spencer; resident 'Psychic' consultant for the Santa Barbara Police Department.

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He could tell you when the first bought of feelings started. It was as soon as he saw Shawn Spencer waltz into the interrogation room; leather jacket resting along broad shoulders, hair messily styled in an attractive array and hazel/green eyes that sparkled with mischief and an almost smug I-Know-More-Than-You look.

That was when the lust started; the stirring in his loins as he watched the younger man stand up against one of his glares, an achievement very few men could boast, and then as he wriggled and arched his tight body in the approximation of a 'psychic' vision.

He was only glad that everyone had been distracted with his nonsense to notice that Head Detective Carlton Lassiter was staring a the, possibly insane, young man with a look in his eyes that could have melted steel. Thankfully he had gotten himself under control before Booker had looked over at him.

But that was the start of his descent into pineapple scented madness.

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The first time he knew that he held deeper feelings for Shawn Spencer than lust was on the Drimmer Case.

Shawn had shown an absolute trust in him, not even once stopping to consider that Carlton had committed the crime. Shawn had believed in Carlton and premised him that he would solve the case and clear Carlton's name.

It was somewhere around then when the lust transformed into like as Shawn went out and put himself in danger, somehow being captured by Drimmer and needing Carlton to save _him_ instead. Yeah, that was when the liking started.

And it would have stayed that way had the event that happened the following week never happened. Carlton would have kept everything locked nicely inside where he couldn't lie to himself but he could damn sure lie to everyone else. Of course, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

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He shouldn't have agreed to go. Definitely should have stayed away from anything that guaranteed Shawn Spencer and getting drunk in the same room. He should have said no and gone home to his empty house to enjoy a drink by himself in the quiet. He should've, he should've, he should've; he didn't.

Maybe it was because of the hard week that they'd had, what with petty crime after petty crime piling up on their desks one after another. Or maybe it was because of all the stress Chief Vick had put them under when one of those petty crimes turned out to be a ring that belonged to the Mayor of Santa Barbara. Or maybe it was so he could forget the pain in his knee from where he had busted it against the ground as he ran in pursuit of the fleeing ring stealer.

It could have been anyone of those reasons which don't really matter now because he's already here, sitting in a bar with Juliet, Guster and Shawn getting progressively drunker as the night wore on.

Carlton turned to the right and locked his gaze upon the wildly gesticulating as he retold a story about some party or another he had attended in his travels.

"-nd then he turned around and looked in the mirror and he had Iguana on his head!" Shawn laughed uproariously with the rest of the On-the-Way-to-a-Bad-Hangover Club and even Carlton himself couldn't suppress a snort of amusement.

"He screamed louder than Gus when confronted with a dead body and started flailing his arms! Ended up knocking himself out in his panic!" by now most of the patrons were unable to sit steadily on their stools and the sight of their wildly laughing bodies and rapidly reddening faces was enough for even Carlton to chuckle at their predicament.

"Lassiefrass, you're actually chuckling! And it doesn't sound like those mad scientists who raid graveyards at night to create monsters that steal pretty girls!" Shawn exclaimed in only partially faked astonishment, but it was enough to draw another small chuckle out of the Head Detective.

"Are you implying that I raid graveyards, Spencer?" Carlton mock growled, though his eyes showed that he was laughing.

Shawn's expression showed that he was shocked for a bit before he laughed it off and replied.

"Of course not, Lassie, how could I ever think that of you?" he asked playfully with a wink before heading off to get another drink.

"However, indeed." Lassiter mused before signaling the bartender for another whiskey for himself.

Carlton sat at the bar for an hour more, drinking whiskey and watching as Shawn flitted from one group of people to another and somehow managing to integrate himself seamlessly into the conversation. Throughout the night Shawn would also throw looks towards Carlton's corner, looks that the Detective met head on and ones that Shawn always looked away from first.

Finally his curiosity seemed to get the better of him as Shawn made his way across the room to perch himself on the stool beside Carlton's.

"So, what is it Lassie? Why have you been looking at me all night? I mean I haven't been doing anything annoying and I'm not getting and visions and I haven't even been sprayed by an alien formula that makes people who hate me to become fixated on me. Although I have wondered about that one because there was his girl in second grade who used to hate me and, even though Gus dose-" Shawn was rambling, something Carlton noticed that he did when he was drunk, or nervous.

"I don't hate you." Carlton cut him off, drawing a surprised look from the 'psychic'.

"What? Then how come you always yell at me and try to get me fired and chase me away from the station and glare at me and try to melt me with your eyes?" Shawn asked, his words pouring out so fast that Carlton's muddled brain could barely keep up.

Keep up it did though and after a few moments Carlton could answer.

"Because I can lie to you, even if I can't lie to myself." maybe if he was actually anywhere close to sober he would recognize those words as too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Since he isn't, though, these words seem perfectly fine to him even though they could open up a completely different 'can of worms' so to speak.

"Lie to me? About hating me? You're not making any sense LassieDear." Shawn looked at Carlton, concerned for the Detectives health, even though anyone would be what with an hours plus worth of whiskey destroying his liver.

"I told myself a long time ago that I would never lie to myself and I never have. I always tell myself the truth and I never deny anything. I'm a miserable bastard, my work is my life, you have a great ass, McNab really does look like a puppy when confused-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Lassikins. Lets back that up there. Now what were you saying about my ass?" Shawn was a little confused, who could blame him, but he also couldn't help but be a little hopeful as well.

"You, Spencer, have a great ass. Especially when you wear those tight ones and you bend over and they stretch in just the right way. Sweet Lady Justice it's one of the hottest sights I've ever seen." Carlton was a little flushed already just thinking about it and Shawn himself was blushing just from the way Carlton had described his ass.

"So, does that mean that you like me or that you _like me_, like me?" Shawn asked with a curious tilt of his head.

"Lord, Spencer, what are you ten?" Carlton snorted before leaning forward and capturing Shawn's lips with his own.

Now maybe, if Carlton had been in control of his actions this sudden kiss would have never come about. However, as has been mentioned before, Carlton was not in control and thus he kissed Shawn Spencer in the middle of the bar.

For his part Shawn did nothing more that moan lustily and kiss back, wrapping his arms around Carlton's neck and deepening the kiss, prompting Carlton to place his hands on the younger man's waist.

The kiss went on for several minutes until the need for air could no longer be ignored and they both drew back while desperately panting for air.

"Hey, Lassie, you wanna get out of here?" Shawn asked suggestively, smirking in his cocky way that had Carlton burning up inside.

"Your place or mine?" was all the Detective said as he drug Shawn from the bar and called a cab to take them back to his place where they spent the night together showing each other just how much they felt for the other.

So, no, Carlton Lassiter never lied to himself and, sometimes, that's not such a bad thing.

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**Panda: **Yay! It's done! I really hope you enjoy this and any critiquing my portrayal of Shawn and Lassiter would be appreciated.

_Panda-Chan: _His characterization of Shawn and Lassiter didn't quite turn out the way he wanted them too. He knew what he wanted in his head but he doesn't think that it really turned out that way on paper.

**Panda: **That's because it really didn't. Sigh. Meh, I just hope you enjoy! Please R&R!


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